


This is my truth…

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Gen, M/M, Self-Harm, Suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:58:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyo gives his all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is my truth…

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt[s]: <http://youtu.be/2e_5P-gIdIc>  
> Beta Readers: gothic_hime  
> Song[s]: "Angel" by Massive Attack

There were days Kyo found himself immersed in the pain deep inside his mind and then there were others where he found himself plucking the strings of his heart as though he wanted to pull them free of his body and display them for the world to see.

He’d been debating on this particular version of showing himself for years; been waiting on the right time and the right place to show his newest calling, the newest way to show the world his words through the expression of body itself. He’d been through session after session with professionals, ensuring he wasn’t going to do anything wrong to himself.

Tonight, as he came on stage, his feet carried him in slow, sure steps toward the center. The light red leather jacket hung from his shoulders in a manner that could be described as utterly sexual. The first song started and Kyo ripped into it with a ferocity that usually took at least a few songs to escalate. His adrenaline was already pumping through his veins, already in full force due to what had happened before the show.

Even as he paced his area of the stage, he could feel the cool metal against his back, slipped between the most intricate areas of his tattoo. His breathing came in quicker the more he thought about it, the more he anticipated the culmination of the entire set. Tonight… there would be no encore. It wasn’t for lack of wanting, it was for sheer planning. They added two songs to the set list and kept it at that.

He brought the crowd up, soaring them into the depths of pure chaos, thrusting them into a mass of sweat and swirling hair before he plunged them back down into utter shock, standing them still with a song they’d not heard in years, performed at the tip-top of his vocal talent. He pushed himself to the very edges of his own abilities and past, something he always did, some absurdly desperate need to give more of himself than there ever was to give.

He pushed through until that last song, standing up on his crate as he announced the last song, turning his back to the crowd and dropping his microphone to the metal beneath his feet. As the dull thump echoed through the hall, he pushed his shirt from his shoulders, letting it pool beneath him, revealing the metal hooks through his back to the crowd. Die and Toshiya both brought him the lines tethered to the roof, attaching them carefully and then retreating, the slow, steady thrum of something new pulsing through the building.

His foot slammed down on the cage, a scream that could be heard even without his microphone shattering the stillness that had been created by his spectacle. The moments drifted by, his head bowed as one of the roadies attached one of the wireless microphones he’d hated so much in the past. The thrum of bass and guitar pulsed upward, pushing things higher until Shinya’s drums kicked in and the microphone was switched on. Kyo’s voice echoed from the rafters, filled with such sweet sorrow, such aching pain that it could only be raw, truthful emotion.

Slowly he was pulled up from the crate, the skin on his back stretching as he slowly left the ground. He hung there, suspended in mid-air, his arms spread wide for what seemed like forever before his legs began to rotate, swaying him from side-to-side and then around as he was pulled higher into the air. The pure effort of it brought tears to his eyes and strained his voice, though it all belonged there. This song was his pain, his sacrifice, his every effort he’d given in order to be what he was. It displayed his best and his worst in every way he could have found to do it.

As he hit the last note his eyes opened and he watched the masses below him, watched their faces as they stared up at him in what could only be called shock. Some had tears on their faces and some just held pure amazement. As he was lowered back down, the beat of bass and guitar began to ramp back down, slowly sliding down into something that could have been called the end. His feet hit the crate and he reached back, releasing himself from the lines, his body crashing to the crate as he let out a piercing scream, his voice cracking as he dissolved into a heap on the crate.

The curtain slid closed, blotting him out from the crowd, preserving what little bit of himself he had left for only his fellow bandmates to witness. Hands slid over his back, gently removing the clasps and then a pair of gloved ones removed the hooks, slowly nursing them of the built up blood, letting it run down his back. The wounds were smoothed and carefully bandaged and then the gloved hands disappeared, replaced by the warm, familiar ones.

He leaned back into the touch, finally able to sit up at least a little bit, though shaking. “You gave them everything,” came that warm voice, like liquid silk, that Kyo had learned to rely on so very much over the years.

His blonde head shook slightly, hair falling into his face. “I gave them my pain, my effort. That’s not all there is in here.” His hand trailed up to his chest, patting at it as he stared at the curtain in front of them.

Die’s face appeared in front of him and he studied him quietly before reaching to wipe away his tears. “It’s a lot of it.”

Kyo gave him a weak little smile, something he reserved only for this man he was currently with, though he seemed to have no idea. “It is.”

Die helped him up and away from the stage, moving them toward the wings so that the others could still throw items to the crowd still chanting for an encore just on the other side of that curtain. As Die left, Kyo stared after him, words on his lips that he knew would take longer still to speak. But that… that could wait. He’d managed this and that was his first step toward his endeavor in self-healing.

Even as he fell in an exhausted heap on the couch, he couldn’t help the warmth that slipped through him, nor the single word that left his lips. “Soon.”

**The End**  



End file.
